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odry. ON AN INFANT WHO WAS BORN, WAS BAPTIZED, AND DIED ON THE SAME DAY. BY THE RIGHT HON. W. E. GLADSTONE. The domestic incident which the following poem commemo- 'ates oceuned in the Premier's own family .1, (From Good Words for May.) •11,11 How wast thou made to pass, By short transition, from the womb i"' Unto that other darkness of thy tomb, p, '0 babe, 0 brother to the grass 1 For like the herb, so thou art born • At early morn And thy little life has flowed away Before the flowing day; Thy willing soul hath struggled, and is free; And all of thee that dieth, A white and waxen image, lieth r;i I 3Jpon the knee. Oh, whither hast thou fled, From the warm, joyous world removed ?" Might one of old have questioned .■ iL. Of his dear and dead; "j.,1 Panting and straining for relief ] Unto a passionate and hopeless grief. Whither, O thou in vain beloved, Whither hast thou borne 'The smiles and kisses that were gathered up In thee for her th, t bare thee, now forlorn, As sweets in the wild rose's cup Before the morn 1" "Is that thy feeble cry But just beyond the threshold of the grave V Art thon yet waiting in the voiceless hall Of Dis, or hear'st the-mourning water's fall ? Thou canst not sure be nigh Where mad and shrieking spirits rave? Or d ost thou slumber take By the deep, glassy, and translucent lake, Through a chill, exhaustless night, Apart from woe, yet senseless of delight?" 'There was no audible reply, <■ 11 n Only a faint, far echo, to that cry 1 • Of natural yearning. But our task Js lighter far; and when we ask, Is all thy fate as dark As is the pall upon thy limbs ? Is there no sun above, no saviour ark "That on the black seaswims, And bears the children, l^ved of God, and blest, Unto the land of rest? We hear a voice, from the high seas of bliss, That answers," Yes." i( ,¡ I. „ Yes narrow was the space ■ ■' '¡; Where thy life ran its hurried race, Like one affrighted by the far-off glare Of the worlds pleasures and alarms That from the sin, the sorrow, and the care Fled, to seek shelter in the arms Of his first Father; and had rest AJpon His breast. O joy, that on that narrow space There is no spot cf acted sin, No burning trace, As where evil thoughts have been. r Thou hast not known how hard it is to kill The inveterate strength of self desire, To quench the smouldering and tenacious fire; And never did thine unexpanded will Gather up conscious energies to move Against the God of love. The volume of this life was soon unrolled: But the hours of thy small earthly store, Although no more Than might be numbered at the dawa of sense By a child's first intelligence, Yet were their single moments told To them that stood around By a faint moaning sound, '• Repeated with that labouring breath That ever ushers Death, Instead of the serene and soft pulsation, ,Of an infant's respiration. How small the tribute, then, of human pain The Eternal Wisdom did ordain Thy migrant spirit should be bound to pay "Upon its way Unto fruition of the immortal prize, Purchased for thee by rain of scalding tears, By agony indign, By woes how heavier far than thine Through more protracted years, And deeper sighs. One evening, thou wert not: v ■ The next, thou wert; and wert in bliss And wert in bliss for ever. And is this i So desolate a lot, To be the theme of unconsoled sorrow, Because, thy first to-morrow, Thou wert ordained a vest to wear, .tNut malle like ours of clay, But woven with the beams of clearest day A cherub lair ? For on that one, that well-spent morn, Unconscious thou wert borne 'To wash in the baptismal stream To gain thy title to the glorious name Which doth unbar the Gates of Paradise And thou wert taken home Before the peril that might come By thy parents' human pride In thy soft beaming eyes; But not before Their blessings on thee they might pour, And pray that, if so early doom betide, Yet God might speed thee on thy path Through the void realms of Death, And Christ reserve thee in His bosom-peace Till pain and sin shall cease; Till earthly snow. shall fly, and they Shall wake to life, with thee, from clay. We are amid the tumult and the stress 'Of a fierce eddying fight; And, to our mortal sight, • 'Our fate is trembling in the balances, And even it hath seemed • The Tempter at the nether scale Might over Love prevail; But thy dear faith can never fail, 'Thou art redeemed 'The shadowy forms of doubt and change Athwart thy tranquil flite DO more may range, Nor speck its lucid path 'With tokens and remembrances of death. "Then flow, ye blameless tears, awhile, A little while ye may: 'The natural craving to beguile, This task is yours; with you Shall peace be born anew, r And sorrow glide away. 0 happy they in whose remembered lot There should appear no darker spot Than this, of holy ground; This, where within the short and narrow bound From morn to eventide, In quick successive train, An infant lived and died, And lived again. 'œ& W. E. G. Æneid vi., 428.

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